


Disinfecting and Defiling

by TheHellcow



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Character Death, M/M, Mild Gore, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHellcow/pseuds/TheHellcow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tell mich, Herr Sniper: Do you know zhe word hygiene?”<br/>“Hygi-, wot, yeah..?”<br/>“Ach so.. And cleanliness?”<br/>“Well, of course I do, mate, s’basic words in the glossary.”<br/>Sniper snaps his fingers, seemingly getting it; “Oh, ya want me to explain them for ya?”<br/>Medic stares blankly; “Was, explain zhem to MIR?”<br/>“Yeah, isn’t that why ya’ askin’? ‘Cause english isn’t yer native language and ya don’t understa-”<br/>“Don’t you DARE presume I do not know vhat “hygiene” and “cleanliness” is! I am zhe only vashed person in zhis room! ”</p><p> </p><p>Medic has slight OCD and no boundaries and when he demands Sniper to come to his office for a regular examination, he finds out that Sniper might not find sanitation important enough and things escalate A LOT!.. And Medic isn't one to back down from a challenge.. Shitty summary is shitty - oh well..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disinfecting

**Author's Note:**

> Medic is a deviant type and pretty unpredictable.. And apparently he has twisted urges too..  
> This is my first fic ever, be nice - but please leave comments so I know how to improve..!

Sniper shuffles awkwardly in the waiting room by the Medics office, his hat in his hands, studying the bland pictures on the wall, uninterested. He scratches his stubbled chin and furrows his brow a bit. He never understood why it was so interesting to have a flat painting of some flowers hanging, when you could look out from your windows and see the real stuff. To be true, he never was fan of a traditional home with paintings on the walls. His van was perfect for him, though it maybe was long overdue for a spring cleaning.. Or summer cleaning.. Or yearly cleaning.. In the Bush, cleanliness wasn’t really a thing. It’s not like the animals in the wild would bitch about him not smelling of candy and flowers. Now, when employed by Reliable Excavation & Demolition, he hasn’t really changed his habits. He still pisses in jars, as he did in the Outback (And it has become real handy against the bloody Spook) and he still makes do with a wet sponge in the arm pits, when the smell is a bit too harsh. It is an easy and efficient way to live, and he needs no more.

When he has studied every little single painted leaf, he plops the hat back onto his head, turns toward the chairs and sits down with a sigh. It is not by choice that he’s pacing the little room now, waiting to be shown inside the doctors office. The Medic had more or less demanded to see him yesterday, since he has skipped the yearly doctor examination ever since he joined the team, and the subtle glint in the doctors eyes behind the round glasses left no room for arguments. Sniper just hopes that he will be over with it quickly. Nothing wrong with his health, he can take care of himself, he’s done so all the years as a hunter in the wild.

“Come in, Herr Sniper”. The door at the end of the room opens smoothly on well-greased hinges, revealing Medic with straight back in his waistcoat. His outer coat is hanging beside the door, not a wrinkle is marring the white material.  
Sniper looks at him warily, before slowly getting on his feet. The good doctor has always kind of unnerved him with his obvious interest in the more macabre parts in his work. It is no secret that the Medic always smiles a lot more when he’s swinging his bonesaw, than when he’s using his Medigun. The tall German waits patiently with a dispassionate attitude, as the lanky man slowly moves towards him, holding open the door to let him into his orderly office. Well inside the door, Sniper lets his trained eyes scan the room to take in all details. He notices how the interior looks almost sterile, from the big oak desk, empty of any papers and mess, to the violin neatly placed to the side on a cupboard beside a half-empty hand antibacterial gel, a book called “Thanatology and Ktenology - Dr. Leo Alexander” and a couple of anatomy books. He discreetly sniffs in, trying to smell some life in the room and wrinkles his nose when he only gets a noseful of medical scents.

“So, Herr Sniper.. Sit down” Medic gestures toward the wooden chair in front of the big desk, seating himself on the opposite side and finding some papers from a drawer, which he starts to thumb through.  
“Before ve start your examination, I need to know everyzhing about your medical past. And I’m talking about vaccines, past diseases, present diseases, fractures - everyzhing…” He snorts and furrows his brows looking at the papers; “I must say zhese papers are far from fulfilling, so you’ll have to tell zhem to mich yourzelf”.  
With that, he slams the disappointing papers down on the table and fixes Sniper with a penetrating glare; “Vell?”. 

Sniper shifts in the chair, feeling uncomfortable under the doctors cold stare. He thinks back, trying to remember past wounds and illnesses; “Well, um.. I broke my arm when I was a little bloke and climbin’ a rotten gumtree. The branch I was hangin’ onto couldn’t support my weight, and I realised that too late.. Oh, and I broke a finger some years back, when I was hit with a didgeridoo by some aggro hobo abo…. Um, does steppin’ on a platypus’ venom spur count?”.  
“Natürlich.. I have always vanted to see the effects of zhat in person. I’ve heard zhe pain should be.. excruciating..!”.  
His thin lips spread and reveal pearly teeth and his eyes light up by the thought.

Sniper clamps his mouth shut, unsettled by Medics reaction to his past experiences and not willing to share anymore. Medic seems to realise Snipers state of mind and schools his features into the same dispassionate expression he was wearing when letting the huntsman into his office. “Ah, vell.. Enough about zhe past, let’s get over vizh zhe examination, ja?” He stands and gestures Sniper to the other half of the room, which is dominated by an examination table with a clean white cloth on it.

“Strip.”  
The command cuts through the air like a whip and Sniper at first stares baffled at the German. “Wot..?”.  
“I said strip. I can’t examine you properly vizh all your clothes in zhe way.”.  
Sniper pushes his hat to the back of his head and scratches his hair, not at all pleased with this evolution. Nonetheless he reluctantly removes his vest, shirt, undershirt, boots and pants, until he is standing in his worn briefs, with goosebumps on his arms and red cheeks, looking anywhere else than at the doctor in his embarrassment.  
“Also zhe hat and glasses, Dummkopf..!”  
Sniper sends the man a grumpy glare, before removing the shades and hat and gently placing the items on the oak desk. Reluctantly he returns to stand by the examination table again, with downcast eyes and crossed arms. A picture of awkwardness and displeasure.  
Therefore he completely misses the look of disgust from the doctor who looks down his nose at the almost naked, lanky Australian, standing in the middle of the room.

“Sag mich, Herr Sniper: Do you know zhe word hygiene?”  
“Hygi-, wot, yeah..?”  
“Ach so.. And cleanliness?”  
“Well, of course I do, mate, s’basic words in the glossary.”  
Sniper snaps his fingers, seemingly getting it; “Oh, ya want me to explain them for ya?”  
Medic stares blankly; “Was, explain zhem to MIR?”  
“Yeah, isn’t that why ya’ askin’? ‘Cause english isn’t yer native language and ya don’t understa-”  
“Don’t you DARE presume I do not know vhat “hygiene” and “cleanliness” is! I am zhe only vashed person in zhis room! ”. Medics German accent getting thicker as anger colors his voice and he takes an intimidating step closer to Sniper, who looks at him, flabbergasted.

“Aww, no mate, that’s not what I meant. I was just thinkin’, that with english as yer second language ya might not know the meanin’ of those words, not that ya dunno how ta clean yerself.”  
“Presposterous! My english vocabulary surely is tvice as vide as yours, du primitiver Wichser..!”.

Every sentence the Sniper utters to calm down the angry German and explain himself, only seems to anger the unpredictable man even more.

“You are filhy! Filthy!! I can smell you all over my room and practically see zhe germs crawl around on your body! You’re eine verdammte Drecksau!”  
“Hey, c’mon, mate, what’s this about?”  
Medic puffs up, seemingly on the point of exploding by that question, his eyes wide and furious as he points at Sniper, who has backed up against the oaken desk, with a shaking finger.  
“About? ABOUT!?? You are INFECTING my office vith your disgusting FILTH!” With a smooth move he unhinges the always present bonesaw from his belt and points at Sniper; “Strip!”  
“Wot!? I ain’t taking off my under-”  
“GERADE DIESE, SCHWEINHUND!!” 

With the point of the bonesaw pressing into his Adams apple, Sniper sees no other way than begrudgingly strip himself of the last piece of clothes. He throws them onto the floor, automatically covers his crotch with his hands and stares defiantly at the doctor, smart enough to not argue with the enraged man, but not backing down without a fight. 

When the Aussie complies, Medic seemingly calms himself down a tad and smooths the few wrinkles in his shirt that appeared from his anger bout. He then pushes his glasses up on the nose and looks at the naked Sniper with a lifted eyebrow. “You are like an animal. Rolling in dirt and not cleaning yourzelf. It’s unacceptable. If I am to examine you, you must be CLEAN!” Sniper sends him a heated glare, unsettled by the sudden shift in the doctors behavior and feeling exposed in all his nakedness.

Medic turns his back to Sniper and walks over to a cabinet, opening it and revealing shelves full of identical, white bottles. He fills his arms with a bunch of the bottles, carries them to the examination table and places them carefully. Unwilling to turn his back away from the safety of the oak desk, Sniper cranes his neck and focuses on the small text on the bottles to see if he can figure out what it is, but all he can see is chemical formulas and the words “ethanol” and “germicidal”. But it gives him a well enough picture of what’s in those bottles.

“Oi, doc.. What, precisely, are ya going ta disinfect..?”  
“You, Herr Sniper.. ALL of you…!”  
“Oh naw, that’s just sick..” The Sniper finally has had enough to not care about the Germans temperament and the bonesaw in his hand, and turns around to grab his clothes and get out of the deranged doctors office. Until he feels something steely and cold poking him in the back of his neck, and hears the Medic speaking with a cold, calm voice;  
“You vill do as I say, Herr Sniper. Or I vill sedate you and do it anyvay.. And you vill NOT like zhat, I assure you.”.  
The Sniper bares his teeth and turns his head, looking at the man out of the corner of his eye. Medics face is once again a flawless mask of detachment as he stands with straight back and presses the bonesaw into Snipers neck, but he’s not able to hide the glint in his eyes by the thought of controlling the proud Australian. Sniper really doesn’t like that look in his eyes, but doesn’t want to know what will happen if he keeps on being stubborn. He’s seen enough of the doctors “experiments” to know he’s better off being on the Germans good side. With a sigh he sags his shoulders and stops on the spot, grinding his teeth when Medic smiles widely and looks at him hungrily.  
“Good choice, Herr Sniper. Now, if you just stay zhere, I vill prepare your decontamination.”.  
The Sniper steels himself and stands still, his back still to the German, who is now buzzing around behind him, producing small scraping sounds as he makes preparations.  
“Step into zhis.”

Sniper turns around, his eyes catching the shape of a big steel tub with a sponge in it, shiny and sterile as anything else in the office. He refrains from giving the Medic a deathglare, and gingerly steps into the tub. He stands in a defiant slouch with his arms crossed, refusing to sit down as a babe getting a bath from his mother. Medic doesn’t seem to care, and will clean him just as readily when he’s standing, which annoys the Sniper immensely.  
The Medic takes the first bottle from the examination table, uncorks it and without warning splashes it over Snipers head.

“BLOODY ‘ELL!!”. The cold liquid thrown onto him takes Sniper by surprise, and he almost slips on the smooth, now wet, surface in the tub, flailing around with his arms. Luckily, the angle of the throw makes none of the fluid get into his eyes. It is still an unpleasant feeling, as the random small scratches and bruises around his body, which are inevitable in his line of work, are stinging when the disinfection comes in contact with the broken skin. The alcoholic smell is also overwhelming and Sniper finds it hard to breath and feels dizzy. He squeezes his watering eyes shut as the vapors from the fluid start to float into them and make them sting. With quivering legs, he tries to regain his balance and brings his hands to his face to wipe the liquid away. Not giving him a chance, Medic throws yet another bottleful onto him, this time frontal. Once again taken by surprise, Sniper this time loses his standing completely as the alcoholic substance makes it impossible for him to breath and he involuntarily takes a step back. He accidentally places his foot with all of his weight on the sponge, which act as a banana peel and slips away under him, so he falls hardly on his bum with a hoot. 

Medic reaches for yet another bottle as his gleaming eyes roam the form of the trashing and coughing Aussie. His pants are starting to tighten as he revels in the rushing feeling of dominance over the higher, but leaner man. Without a second thought he pours the content out on top of Snipers head, who gasps for air and tries to get away. While he desperately claws at the sides of the tub to get out, Medic returns to his desk, reaches into the drawer and procures a pair of his traditional red latex gloves. Snapping them onto his hands, he slowly returns to the tub where Sniper has managed to get his torso out on the floor, and is at the moment laying on his back, gasping for air like a fish.

“Herrgott, you have vetted my floor vizh your dirty body. Get back in zhere..!”.  
Medics makes a disapproving ‘tch’ sound and, with his polished boot, he pushes Sniper back into the tub stomach first. He then sinks down into an elegant squat, resting his gloved hands on Snipers wet and naked shoulders, holding him down, as the gunman gulps after air and tries to crawl back out.  
“Ve’re not done at all, mein Freund. I’ll have to give you a deep scrub. Zhe dirt has grown into your skin..! Disgusting!”  
With that, he slaps him, hard on his buttock, as if disciplining a disobedient child. Sniper lets out a strangled yelp as his eyes, still stinging from the alcohol vapors, flies open. “S-Stop that!”  
“Nein, I zhink not.. You need to learn about sanitation and respect. And I vill teach it to you myzelf.” He grabs in between Snipers shaking legs and gets hold of the wet sponge, dipping it in the liquid on the bottom of the tub, and starts to scour hard on the bushmans back, leaving the skin raw and red. Whenever he feels that Sniper is struggling too much, he will give him a hard smack on his ass, and Sniper quickly learns to just lay still and go with it, turning his face as far away from the fluid as possible.  
Once in a while Medic pours disinfection fluid over him until he has emptied all the bottles on the table and the tub is almost full. 

Glancing on the man in the tub who is close to fainting from the vapors, he scratches his chin with a small smile. Planning what to do next, he massages his growing bulge in his pants, pleased with his spontaneous idea to clean up the Aussie.  
"Vould you look at zhat, you look almost clean now! But not quite, Herr Sniper..! Now comes zhe fun and most important part..! All zhe places you DON'T see..!"

Pushing the near unconscious man upright onto his knees and holding him steady with one hand, he lets the other hand slide down the Aussies torso, in a way that’s more clinical than sensual. The gloved hand inspects all the curves and ridges made by lithe muscles, follows the bone-structure by the collarbone and ribs and experimentally tugs at the chest hair. Snipers head lolls around and his wet, dark hair is plastered to his forehead, his eyes closed and open gasping mouth. He doesn’t seem to register the doctors touch.  
When there's no reaction from the dangling man, Medic eagerly lets his hand slide even further down his body, following and smoothing out the damp chest hair that shrinks into a thin line down to the bellybutton and then fans out again into a coarse triangle. His lust is sparked more by the fact that he can dominate Sniper totally, than by the naked flesh.

"Ve must rid every filthy hair from germs... Make you clean as a vhistle.." 

With his head up and away from the vapors Sniper slowly comes to his senses and fights to focus on what's happening. Slowly, a heat from his crotch spreads out in his body and he glances bewildered down between his legs, where his eyes meet the sight of Medic, maniacally mumbling about cleanliness and stroking his dick in long, thorough strokes, his gloved fingers spreading disinfection in all crevices along his shaft and head. As he watch, paralysed, the Medic expertly pulls back his foreskin and lets his gloved fingers smear a good amount of disinfection on the glans and in the urethral opening. Sniper bites his lips to hold back a moan and his eyes widen in disgust and shame as he realises that he's almost painfully hard, simply from the doctors ministrations, disguised as cleaning.

He reacts swiftly and wildly, letting one long leg swing out from underneath him and stomps Medic right in face, possibly breaking his nose.  
"GET AWAY FROM ME, ya sick pooftah!"

Medic falls back with an outburst and Sniper scrambles to his feet, ready to fight or flight, leaning more to the first as his anger is slowly rising from the thought that the doctor touched him so intimately. He looks around after a weapon. In his naked state he feels vulnerable against the smaller but bulkier man, and he wants something, anything, to defend himself with.

With blood running down his chin, Medic is clutching his destroyed nose, and corrects his glasses, which were fallen askew. He hadn't seen that one coming, as he was sure it would have taken longer time for the bushman to get to his senses. Oh well, it is not the first nor the second occasion that time has slipped from him when he is engulfed in activities that peaks his interest. There just never seems to be enough of it when you are having fun..! But right now he isn't having fun. He isn't exactly angry either, scientifically he knows how a human instinctively fights for survival, and if his arousal, which hasn't faded in the least at the kick, hadn't been so overwhelming, he might have wanted to play a little cat-and-mouse game with the Sniper. But that must be for another time.  
Right now he's just annoyed that he was interrupted in his work. And that Sniper got blood on his pristine shirt. Oh, he will pay for that. But first things first. The foolish bushman isn't fleeing, but seems willing to take up the fight, naked, weaponless. He really doesn't know what's best for himself. He will learn. 

Medic stands up, slowly, his gloves and face smeared in his own blood. Sniper eyes him anxiously, side stepping closer to the door with his hands protectively over his crotch, until he feels something against his back, which a quick glance later reveals to be the examination table. In the tiny fraction of a second where Sniper is distracted by the table in his back, the doctor flings himself at him without warning. Sniper yowls in surprise, as the German flies head-first into his stomach, so they both crash into the table, breaking it in the impact. Losing his breath as his back makes violent contact with the table, he feels a sharp pain when something inside of him breaks, possibly a rib. Out of air and in pain, he struggles to get up and away from the doctor, who is unharmed and still on top of him. He is close enough for Sniper to see his tongue subconsciously darting out to taste his own blood, and that is the most frightening thing he has ever seen. 

 

That is the moment when he abandons his pride and will do everything he can to just get out of that too sterile office. He claws at the doctors uniform, trying his damnedest to push him off, actually succeeds, and gets up on his knees, only to see Medic wrench a leg from the destroyed table, swinging it and using it as a club. The last he sees before he’s knocked out is the table leg flying toward his face in full force.

Medic stands up, throwing the improvised bat over into a corner, puts his hands at his hips and looks with furrowed brows at the destruction and mess at his feet, his features a picture of irritation. He must clean that up later and get a new examination table, but that’s not a priority right now.  
The act of violence and taste of his own blood almost tipped him over and made him come right there in his pants, but at the last second he controlled himself. He is not going to pass up upon the opportunity that is Snipers naked, CLEAN, body.  
Carefully he steps out of his clothes, keeping the gloves on, tempted to just leave them in a heap on the floor, but ends up folding them nicely, placing them on the guest chair, boots under, nevertheless. Grabbing his belt from the top of the folded clothes and reaching down to yank Snipers belt out of his pants, he then gets to work.  
Hauling the unconscious sharpshooter over to his desk, he regrets for a moment that he has to soil his stainless oak desk, but with the examination table broken beyond repair, there’s no other option. He’s too aroused to consider for one moment not to go through with his plans. With a swooshing movement of his arm he brushes Snipers journal off the desk, so the papers scatter all over the floor.  
Then he slams the lanky man onto his desk, so his torso is supported by the top and the rest of his body from the hips and down hangs, dangling over the edge. He then secures Snipers hands with the belts in one of the corners of the desk by the table leg and makes sure that they’re too tight for the bushmans hands to slip out, even if they get sweaty.

Snapping off his left glove with a smack-sound, leaving the other one on for later use, he binds the bloody, elastic material around his junk like a penis ring, effectively stopping his blood flow and orgasm. Sitting down in his office chair, occasionally palming his balls and tugging in his cock, he stares at the Sniper and waits for him to wake up. He could just use him as he lays unconscious, but where's the fun in that? He had always preferred to do his experiments on conscious subjects, like when he transplanted a mega baboon heart into the Russian Heavy. So much more interesting when you can see the subjects fear and uncertainty. Even more fun if it is against their will.

When Sniper begins to stir and moan sleepily, Medic gets to his feet to retrieve the antibacterial gel from his cupboard. Now he only needs to clean Snipers insides.

Sniper opens his eyes slowly, his head hurting and thumping like it was home to a thunder storm and his fractured rib is stinging with every movement. He sleepily tries to lift a hand to his face, but finds it impossible. A sudden smack at his bottom makes him jerk wide awake.  
"'Ey! Wot!?"  
Then he realises that his hands are bound and he lays on his stomach on a well known desk with his legs uselessly dangling over the edge.  
"Wot in the bloody 'ell are ya doing? Lemme go!"  
Medic chuckles darkly behind him.  
"My dear Sniper, I promised I vould clean you, ja? Vell, I'm missing a spot..!"  
Sniper goes rigid when he feels Medics hands on his bottom, one gloved, one not. Panicked he wiggles his hips when his buttocks are spread to reveal his puckered hole. Effectively trapped he feels Medics gloved hand slide down the cleft until his fingers rest lightly against his rectum opening.  
"Look at zhat. Since vhen did you last clean yourzelf down here? It's disgusting! Do you even vash your hands vhen you've defecated? Ach, don't say a vord, I know zhe answer..! You're practically a valking germ bomb, strolling around, spreading bacteria with your filthy hands, infecting everyone else! .. But I digress, there's a reason vhy you're laying on my perfectly clean desk like zhis: I'm about to exterminate all of your nasty dirt!" He lets his forefinger circle the shivering hole, so tightly clenched in fear of invasion.  
With a voice cracking in fear, Sniper pleads the doctor not to do this to him, and Medic actually stops for a while, but what Sniper thinks finally is some mercy as he slowly relaxes, is just the opposite. Medic simply took some time to enjoy the broken and fearful sounds from the, once so proud, man beneath him, and now, when the Sniper thinks himself saved, he squeezes out a generous amount of sanitising gel onto his gloved fingers, smearing them in the substance.

Then, without a warning, he plunges his middle finger inside Sniper.  
Sniper screams in surprise and pain as his muscles are breached and he redoubles his efforts to get free, only to make the invasion even more painful.  
The Medic mercilessly pounds his hole with his finger, retracting it almost entirely and then plunges it back in up to his knuckles. When he feels the muscles around his fingers relax a tiny fraction, he adds his forefinger covered in cold, chemical gel without a pause and scissors the inside of the wailing Sniper, spreading the gel all over his inner walls.  
Sniper can feel his anus be spread open and slicked up before the doctors eyes, fast and efficiently, and his cheeks are burning with shame as he whimpers by the assault. He only feels pain and humiliation by the intimate cleansing, and he just hopes the Medic will soon find him clean enough, and let him be.  
At last Medic retracts his fingers, and Sniper sags his shoulders, sniffling in relief that his ordeal is finally over. Over his own panting he hears the doctor sit back in the chair, seemingly enjoying the view in front him. Sniper sluggishly turns his head to look at the German, and his eyes once again go wide when he realises that the man is also completely naked - and is eagerly wanking off his hard, pulsing dick with red face and eyes boring into Sniper, a bloody glove cast aside on the floor. Medic smiles slowly when he sees the other man look at him, not slowing down the jerking. The huntsmans mouth falls open, as he realizes that the Medic gets off from touching him and cleaning him against his will, and he fights an urge to vomit all over the desk. 

“Ach, Sniper, I see you’re still awake? Gut! Now you’re are completely germ free, as sterile as operational equipment. Does it not feel nice to be clean? To be free of filth at last? Wohlgemerkt, it’s not a treatment I usually give to my patients, to clean zhem up like zhat, but my patients normally aren’t as filthy as you, Höhlenmensch.” His voice in a lower pitch than usual and his eyes glinting at Sniper behind his glasses, his hand moving up and down his shaft in an endless rythm.  
“Ich denke, dass Ich deserve some kind of repayment, für meine Hilfe. Und you seem to be prepared, ready und CLEAN to give it to me.” His excitement giving him a thicker accent and making him slip in more german words than usual. Sniper looks at him, horrified, having a good idea what he is supposed to 'give' to the other man, but not wanting to believe it. Surely the doctor has no intention of exploiting him? He must admit, that it felt way too wrong the way Medic cleaned him, but he only thought it a part of the Germans twisted mind. Now it seems like there’s a deeper, sexual meaning with this purification, and Snipers mind can’t wrap around it.  
But he has no choice, as the Medic stands up and presses himself against Snipers lower half, his warm and throbbing cock resting against Snipers thigh. Panicking, the gunman yanks his bound hands and tries to lift his hips away from Medic, crossing his ankles and clenching his anus.  
Medic laughs shortly, entertained by Snipers pointless struggle, and gives him another smack in the bum, just for the fun of it. Then he forces his legs apart and grabs his hips and brutally penetrates him with his swollen member.  
Even with the gel and the preparation, Snipers hole is still painfully tight and Medic gasps after breath as the Aussie screams beneath him. With an iron grip the doctor holds Snipers pelvis still, stalling for a bit, so that he does not spill his seed inside of him right away. Snipers hole clenches tightly around him and he bites his lips, fighting his orgasm back, holding still until he feels the rectum muscle relax, and he can breath freely again without going over the edge. The Snipers screams has by then subsided to sobbing, and he is trembling beneath the German, his fists rolled to tight balls.  
When the Medic starts to move again in rolling, powerful thrusts, it doesn't really hurt anymore, but he feels sick all the way into his core. He hides his face in his bicep as he waits for the doctor to finish. But then the Medic suddenly angles his thrusts differently.

The head of his dick rams directly into his prostate gland and Snipers head flies up as he gasps loudly, a wild spark of pleasure shooting through his body.  
"Ja, you like zhat, don't you? "  
Medic thrusts again, hitting the Australian males G-spot perfectly again, and Sniper moans, before he presses his mouth into his shoulder crevice, red faced and near death of shame, his fingers clawing at the wooden surface.  
The doctor might have lost his medical license, but it's clear he knows about male anatomy, as he wrenches small shameful sounds of pleasure from the sharpshooter, when he mercilessly plunges in and out of his body, making sure to nudge the little bundle of nerve every now and then. He seems to find a sick pleasure in forcing Sniper to enjoy the non-committal shag and he does so expertly.

Every time Medic hits spot on, it jerks in the Aussies cock. It had returned to a completely flaccid state after he was knocked unconscious and the rough cleaning of his anus, but as the Medic rides him hard, he can shamefully feel how it starts to grow hard again, bobbing up and down between his legs. He bites down on his arm to muffle his small sounds of pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut under creased eyebrows. But he can't control his bodys reactions, his back arching and bum up in the air, as it eagerly takes what the Medic gives, depraved of physical pleasure as it is. His broken rib is for the moment forgotten in the haze of pleasure.

Sniper feels his balls tighten as his orgasm is nearing and fights it with all his might, not wanting to come because of Medic, and surprisingly enough, the German stops his motions and slips out of him, even though Sniper can feel that he is still achingly hard. Unsure what to make of it, Sniper lifts his head and turns it, trying to see what Medic is up to, but all he can see is the doctors hands, which are still gripping his hips tightly. A shiver runs through his body when he suddenly feels a warm breath where Medics member just slipped out. A second later a warm, wet tongue laps around his hole and Sniper involuntarily moans, having never tried anything like it. The tongue teasingly licks around the hole for a while before it gently, gently dips inside. Abandoning every thought, Sniper lifts his hips as high as he can, wanting that skilled tongue as far in as possible. A deep chuckle hums through the tongue and vibrates through Snipers very being, but he doesn’t care anymore, only focused on being pleasured and used. The tongue probes his hole a bit more, before it trails down along his perineum and laps at the back of his balls. Snipers sees stars before his eyes and as the tongue follows his length, to the underside of his head and dips in under the foreskin to circle his glans, he throws his head back in a howl and comes in hot, thick bursts at that damnable tongue. 

After his explosive orgasm he sags in his bonds, completely spent with shaking legs, tired and sated enough to avoid thinking about what just happened, and that it was the best and most arousing sexual experience in his whole life. He senses more than feels the Medic removing himself from Snipers behind, and suddenly he steps into the gunmans field of view. Sniper looks up at him, his face void of any emotion, and Medic smiles to him, almost fondly, had it not been for the malicious curl of lips.  
“Herr Sniper, such a dirty animal. Look how you’ve soiled me now, hmm?” He points to his angular visage, still covered in Snipers sperm, and Snipers brow furrows as his mind, still fogged after his peak, tries to comprehend the fact that the doctor, who clearly seems to be obsessed with cleanliness and sanitation, practically made him spent himself all over his face.  
“- I must repay you for that, mein Süßer.”  
Oh.. that explains it.. Medic seemingly just has a demented want to pretend he has a reason to do the same to Sniper. He sighs, tired and deflated and squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to get the stuff in his eyes, but doesn’t really bother to do anything else. Shortly after he feels hot splatters on his face and he wrinkles his nose sullenly.

Medic bites his lips, his eyes glued to Sniper as he draws the last drops of come out of himself onto the sharpshooters face, contemplating that he may actually like Sniper better when he is filthy instead of clean - as long as it's Medic himself, who has dirtied him.  
After all, clean things were only cleaned to be used and sullied, all the way from cutlery to surgical instruments. Why not apply that pattern to human beings? And as Medic looks down at the used and broken Sniper, he thinks that it only sounds logical and he smiles widely, with a tongue tasting chemically of disinfection and sanitizing gel, a CLEAN taste which drowns the taste of sperm, his mouth going wider and wider until it looks like his too handsome face is about to break in two and reveal something not as pretty on the inside.


	2. Defiling

Sniper looks up at the sky to check up on the weather, the heavy rain splashing onto his yellow tinted shades. He’s so used to wearing these glasses that he even wears them in bad weather or when it’s dark. He likes it that way, they are a part of him now, just like his hat. Right now he is immensely grateful for the hat too, which shields his face from the rain. Well, when he’s not looking up into it. But he has to be sure that the weather will continue to be this rainy, because he needs that to fulfill his plan.  
Ever since he stumbled out of Medics office a week ago, his clothes clutched in his arms and his body numb from pain and pleasure, he’s been planning. The Medic has not heard the last of this story.  
He bows his head again, takes off the glasses and wipes the rain of them, snarling as he remembers his humiliation. No, he certainly hasn’t heard the last of it yet..  
He puts the shades back on, shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall as he resumes his waiting. Luckily he is a patient man, he is used to be waiting a long time for his prize, when he is hunting. He has learned that the prey you wait the longest for, usually is the best kind of trophy.

He shuffles a bit, his clothes getting more and more wet by the second, but that’s not really bothering him, he’s tried worse. Finally he can hear footsteps marching through the mud around the corner, and he prepares to step out from the shadow of the wall. When he hears the person go past the corner, he slinks out behind him.  
“‘Ey, doc..”  
Medic stops on the spot, and turns his head, looking at him indifferently, water dripping from his hair down onto his already soaked coat and glasses.  
“Herr Sniper..? Vhat are you..? Ach nevermind, have you seen Herr Heavy? Herr Spy told me zhat he is vaiting for me behind zhe storage building..”  
Sniper moves closer, his face partially lying in shadow from his hat; “Yeah, s’amazing what the French twit will do for a couple of fags..”  
The German turns around fully, casting him a suspicious glance and finally seeming to understand that something is amiss.  
“Hmm I did find it quite extraordinary zhat he vould require my assistance in such a place.. and in zhis veather..! I suppose you set me up for a reason, zhen, out vith it..!”  
"Don’t pretend you don’t remember last time you an’ me were alone together..! Nah, I just want some good ol' revenge, mate". 

With that he withdraws his hand from his pocket and stabs a syringe directly into the Germans neck and empties it before he retracts it and throws it on the ground.  
"Family recipe, see if ya know the antidote for THAT, doc..!"  
Unprepared for the attack, Medic feels his head getting heavier and heavier as he stumbles back to rest against the wall. As he slides down the wall, the last he sees before he falls unconscious is Snipers face, looking down on him, triumphantly, his shades hiding half of his face and the other half dominated by a sly smirk, his pointed teeth glistening in the twilight sun.

When he wakes up again, the first thing he notices is how WET everything is, his clothes are soaked and he's lying on some wet surface, probably the ground, as he feels even more water drip onto him in big drops.. His vision is blurry, his mind fogged and he can’t really make out where he is or what’s happening. He groans and tries to lift a hand to wipe his face free of water, but finds it impossible to move his arm. He tries again, with the same result. As his thoughts get clearer, he realises that he can’t move at all, only his eyes seem to be functioning properly, and even they are way more sluggish than what they are used to. He can feel his body, his jaw slack and his mouth half open, glasses askew his nose, but he can’t make his limbs work. Whatever was in the syringe Sniper gave him, it has paralysed him totally. His eyes dart around, trying to find the shape of the marksman, but the water in his eyes and on his glasses, makes everything a big, dark blur. Medic isn’t usually a man prone to panic, but right now he can feel the first twinges of fear, as he lies on the ground unable to do anything or see anything.  
A dark shape moves into his field of vision. He presumes it is Sniper and wants to command him to release him, but finds it impossible to form any words with his tongue and lips. Only a few wheezing sounds make it through his throat  
“err.. ier.. eeerere… oou”  
“Relax, nurse.. This stuff ‘ere, it ain’t dangerous.. But you’re goin’ to lay pretty still for a while,  
... Roight now yer fully paralysed, but just ya wait an’ see - in a few minutes ya’ll be able to let that pretty mouth of yers run off in ya filthy nazi-language. It’ll take far more time before tha rest of ya body will work, though. We use this sedate Down Under. When we catch ‘gators to wrestle with, so they keep calm until they’re in the ring.. ”  
While he speaks, Sniper saunters in long steps over and kneels by the doctor. He reaches down, grips the Germans jaw and lifts his head close to his face so the Medic can see his face in blurry contours.  
"In the meantime you and me are gonna ‘ave loads of fun.."

Medic succeeds in lifting his upper lip in a snarl, but that is all he can do, as the sharpshooter releases his head again and stands up.  
"I've planned it well, doc.. Waited to just the right point, when tha ground was most muddy and then I lured ya out ‘ere where no one else comes. Ya do realise that yer practically bathin’ in the dirt now, roight? Not one white spot left on yer fancy coat..!"  
Medic manages to furrow his brow in disgust by that and a strangled sound pushes through his lips.  
"Imma make ya so dirty, ya’ll never be clean again, sis'" With that promise Sniper roughly begins to unbutton Medics coat and shirt. Impatiently he yanks the boots and pants off the motionless German until he lies bare before his eyes, his white skin contrasting nicely against the dark mud. Like a white, fallen king on a black chess square.  
Sniper licks his lip as he studies the still form, his mind running with all the things he can do to him. Medics cold blue eyes glare at him, smooth as a millpond on the surface but boiling in the depth as an underwater volcano, and Sniper lets his thumb brush his crotch. Oh, had he looked forward to this day where he finally would get his revenge. A small part of him is excited for an entirely other reason as his body clearly remembers the insane pleasure forced upon him by the same man, who is now arrogantly looking at him as if he knows his thoughts.

Determined not to let Medic set the pace again, Sniper bares his teeth in a growl and opens his pants to pull out his dick, his angry blue eyes behind his shades interlocked with Medics passionless ones. As the rain still falls heavily onto the two men, he roughly starts to stroke himself, occasionally sliding his thumb over the underside of the penishead, dipping lightly inside the slit and playing with the foreskin. He lets the other hand slide down between his legs to palm his tight balls and stroke his perineum. With closed eyes he involuntarily imagines someone else is jerking him off, someone with skilled, gloved hands, and groans deep in his throat as he works himself up to a rock-hard state where his arousal painfully bounces against his stomach, aching for release. He then reluctantly lets it go and kneels by the Medic again, still fully clothed save his leaking cock.  
Medic has been watching him all this time with his blurry vision, following his hands around the body, studying his face as it contorts, and he’s now fully focused on the man, shamelessly sitting beside him with his dick out, proudly pointing upwards with precome glistening on the dark head and running down along his length, all the way down to his coarse pubic hair. 

Snipers hand slowly moves towards the ground, picking up a large chunk of dripping mud, making sure the doctor follows his movements with his eyes. Then he slaps it unto Medics broad chest and smears it all over him, grinning when he sees Medics eyes widen in horror. He repeats until all of the other mans chest is as dark as the Demomans skin. In the meantime, Medic has regained control over his tongue and is furiously commanding him to stop this ‘Schweinerei’ at once.

“Let me go right now, du verdammter Arschficker, or I vill cut of your infinitesimal prick vith my bluntest scalpel, as soon as I get free!!”  
Either it is because of the insult of his manhood or he’s simply tired of Medics shrill voice, but Sniper puts an end to the slander abruptly by flinging the doctor violently onto his stomach, giving him a mouthful of mud as collateral damage. Medic spits enraged and disgusted, fighting to hold his head over the mud on a wobbly neck, his face splattered in mud, and his hair hanging down in his eyes. He then feels Snipers rough hands on his mud-soaked thighs, and tries to look over his shoulder, to see what the marksman is up to, not at all pleased with being almost completely coated in filthy mud and not able to move at all. When Sniper notices that he looks at him, he grins sharktoothed, spreads Medics buttocks and starts to smear mud in between.  
“Don’t you DARE-”  
“Shut yer cake-hole, doc. I’m gonna do EXACTLY what I want, and ya can’t stop me..!” And with that he presses a finger inside Medics anus, using the mud as lube.  
Medic gasps and turns his head again, the sensation too overwhelming to hold his head in this tiring position as he still doesn’t have complete control over his neck.  
“Ya were nice enough ta prepare me properly, so I’mma return tha favor, before I’ll use and abuse ya reaaal good.” Sniper then squashes in another finger in the tight hole, making sure his fingers are dripping in mud, and then smears it all over Medics insides, as far in as he can reach with his long fingers.

Grinding his teeth, Medic imagines how the germs spread out inside his rectum, crawls up through his tubes and infects his heart. Sweat starts to pearl on his forehead along with the raindrops as the panic wells up inside him. With a giant effort he fights it, and calms himself, his sharp mind starting to plan and busying itself with other thoughts.  
Sniper thrusts his fingers in and out for a bit, scissoring them around to reach everything, while he wonders about the Medics silent reaction. He heard the gasp, but no pleading or livid words. He presumes that the doctor tries to hold on to his pride, and he smiles grimly.  
He will fuck every tiny fraction of dignity and arrogance out of the man and leave him crushed and defiled.

He pulls out his fingers, hears a tiny sigh from the man under him, before he bruisingly grips his hips and heaves his compliant body onto his knees. With a brutal thrust, he drills into the doctor, impaling him on his long, hard dick. This time Medic screams short and high-pitched, as his narrow hole is violently widened by the Aussie. Without a pause, Sniper snaps his hips and starts pounding mercilessly into the German, growling as he has his way with him. For a while the only noise is wet, slapping sounds as flesh hits flesh, hard and fast, and Snipers moans and snarls. After the initial scream, Medic has fallen silent, even though his hands, as the sedate slowly leaves them, claw at the mud, getting loads of the dirt under his nails. But for once the doctor doesn’t seem to care.  
His body is shining and is slick from sweat, rain and mud, and Sniper almost regrets not to have undressed himself to feel that sculpted back against his own furry and wiry chest. As a compensation he grins ferally, and presses the doctors face into the mud, keeping his hips steady with the other hand as he fucks the life out of him.  
Medics eyes widen as the dirt is near his mouth, and he turns his head away as much as he can with Snipers strong hand fisted in his hair. He tries to breath normally, calming himself as he pictures a nice, rinsing bath later on, when he’s done with the male, who’s currently mating with him.  
Sniper lets go of Medics hair and grips his hips again, leaving bruises on the skin over the hipbone, feeling powerful as he ruts into the German male. He strongly desires to see the Medics face, to see the pain and humiliation on his angular features, to fully enjoy his vengeance. He slips out for a short time, only to turn Medic over and lift his knees before he hammers into him again like an animal in heat. He groans and looks victoriously down at Medics contorted face. Something is off, though… The doctors eyes are squeezed shut in a frown, as in pain, but small wrinkles around his mouth and the way he bites his underlip tell another story. Snipers rhythm falters as he looks slack jawed on him, then he rolls his hip in a powerful thrust into him, almost lifting him off the ground. Medic gasps, and slowly opens his eyes, his lips curling rudely as he looks up at Sniper. Between his legs, his dangling cock is growing and Sniper halts completely for a while, shocked. 

“Crickey.. Ya.. ya like to... be in pain, to be hurt - Don’t ya!? ...Ya really ARE a demented bastard..!”  
Medic chuckles darkly and licks his lip, as he presses himself closer to Sniper. His body has almost completely regained its mobility, and Sniper throws his head back in a moan and jerks his hips forward again, not able to control himself anymore. As he resumes his pounding, he feels deeply disappointed to have his revenge ruined and shameful for giving Medic undeserved pleasure in the pain. He tries in vain to push back the little bit of excitement as he sees how his brutal mating affects the male beneath him. Medics face shows pure bliss, all red and sweaty, and sometimes he opens his eyes in a cocky slice, before he closes them again and gives himself into the pain and pleasure. He soon throws his head back into the mud with a splash, his eyes and mouth wide open in euphoria and comes all over his stomach, his dick lying between them, twitching, not touched by either of them one single time. In his orgasm his walls contract tightly around Sniper, who soon follows him with a howl, coming deep inside Medic in hot spurts, as he bangs into him in shallow, jerking thrusts. As he comes down from his peak, he slips out of the German, and falls down onto his back beside him, his chest heaving. His muscles are shaking, his face itchy with sweat and he can feel his bladder’s close to exploding, but he’s too exhausted to do anything about it at the moment. Medic straightens his aching legs out and wipes his glasses as good as he can, finally able to move and now see. The rain is only a few drops in between now and the shadows are getting longer as the sun sets and the two men lie side by side, quietly.  
Suddenly the silence is broken by small chuckles that grow into a low laugh. Sniper looks tiredly to the side at Medic, who can barely control his mirth. 

“What’s so funny, wanker?”  
“You, Herr Sniper.. You are ridiculous, zhe laughing stock, an outright fool. You zhink a little mud and rough sex can break me..? Oh, you make me laugh..!”

Sniper stumbles onto his feet, pointing furiously at Medic, feeling exposed even though he’s fully clothed compared to the other man, lying comfortable on the ground, fully naked.  
“I RAPED ya..! Against yer will!! I DOMINATED ya, and there was nothin' ya could do about it!”  
“And you zhink zhat’ll break me? Maybe it breaks a man like you, nein, most CERTAINLY it breaks a man like you - Ve got proof of that last week - But a man like me? Hah, nein, mein freund, not by a long shot..”

Sniper sees red as Medic smiles arrogantly and winks, looking satisfied and not all shattered by his defilement as was Snipers plan. His ears are burning, his heart hammering and his bladder aching as he clenches his fists tightly.  
“I know what breaks a man like ya.. I Know yer weak spot: Ya are a damn Mysophobian..!”.  
“It surprises me zhat you even know a vord like zha-”  
Medics sentence is cut off as Sniper places his heavy boot onto his muddy chest, effectively trapping him, and grips his almost soft dick and points it at his face. Then he lets a hot, yellow stream flow out of him, onto Medics repelled face. Medic is about to gasp after the air, but quickly changes his mind and squeezes his eyes and mouth shut, not wanting ANY of the liquid inside of him.  
Sniper laughs hoarsely, aiming at his nostrils instead, not giving him a chance.  
“When I’m done with ya, you might want to add a chapter to yer Ktenology-book about drowning in piss.” Medic doesn’t even have the time to give him a furious look as he desperately tries to avoid getting piss in his nose. He doesn’t care about the unsanitary part of getting soaked in urine, it is after all technically sterile. But it smells terrible and he really doesn’t want it in his lungs or his mouth. He has heard plenty of horror stories about Jarate from Spy, to know that it’s not a taste you want to know about.  
When Sniper’s emptied himself he looks blankly at Medic, not feeling the satisfaction he thought he would. Medic looks back at him, his eyes void of emotions as urine drip from his hair and run down his face. Suddenly tired as death Sniper lets himself fall down to lay beside the doctor again, looking into the sky. He can feel the heat from the man beside him. The man who brought out the worst in him, made him an animal, by first forcing himself on Sniper and then making him spray urine on him as he was some kind of territory, SNIPERS territory nonetheless. By making him want to hurt him, dominate him, BREAK him. He feels contaminated, on a whole other level than his empty, muddy body. Medic shuffles beside him, apparently on the hunt for his clothes, as the night is settling and the air is getting cold. Sniper watches him as he pulls the clothes on, not bothering cleaning himself of mud and semen, as the clothes are equally sullied. When he has buckled his belt with his bonesaw and other equipment dangling from it, he lies down again beside Sniper, locking eyes with him. 

For a long moment they just lie there and stare into each others souls, trying to get behind the other ones glasses and inside the head, to the myriad of thoughts they both are hiding.  
Sniper finally snorts tiredly, emptied of energy and a bit amused by the whole situation, done fighting for now; “We can’t keep meeting like this, doc.”  
Medic smiles fondly at him as he stabs him in the heart with his bonesaw, looking deeply into the wide eyes of the dying Sniper; “No, Liebling. Ve can’t”.

The End.


End file.
